


Nightmares

by LeannieBananie



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-02 23:36:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8687989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeannieBananie/pseuds/LeannieBananie
Summary: Geralt has a nightmare and Yennefer comforts him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Mentions of In Ciri's Footsteps, Destination: Skellige.
> 
> Inspired by Geralt making a comment about having nightmares once he's reunited with Ciri. This is just something short and sweet to help keep me in practice.
> 
> Kudos and comments, leave 'em if you liked it. Helps keep us writers motivated! And let me know if you see any mistakes.

He woke her when the night was darkest, the room pitch black and silent except for the sound of his ragged breath and the near audible pounding of his heart. Startled, Yen reached for him to finding him sitting upright in bed, back damp with sweat and trembling slightly like a horse after a hard race, winded and exhausted, but with an excess of adrenaline surging through the veins. Struggling to shake of the last vestiges of sleep she sat up and touched him, heart skipping a beat when he flinched under her fingers. 

“Geralt?” Her whisper seemed loud, but it snapped him out of the remnants of the nightmare that clung to him. She could practically see the dark, smoky tendrils slipping off his shoulders and dissipating, melting away into the shadows, leaving their host drained and empty. 

“It’s nothing, go back to bed.” He murmured, shaking off her hand to stride naked to the window. Leaning against the sill he pressed his forehead to the frosted pane and clenched his eyes tightly, not sure whether he was trying to escape or remember the flickering images behind his lids. 

Recalling the nightmares was like peering at them through a thick, milky fog, all faded silhouettes that vanished if he got close and flashes of ashen hair and green eyes. The feelings and emotions they roused were all too vivid though. His heart still raced in panic and ached with desolation, his lungs burned from imaginary exertion, his eyes felt gritty from unshed tears. Geralt was so focused on the burn of the ice cold window against his face and busy using every trick Vesemir had every taught him to calm his frantic heart that he didn’t hear Yen slide from bed until her soft body pressed against his tense back. 

Wordlessly she wrapped her arms around him, clutching at his waist and burying her face into his back, trying to ground him, to bring him back from the sharp edge he lingered on. Her own heart ached for him, she knew these nightmares had plagued him since Ciri had reappeared in this world and that sleeping through the night was a rare event for him. His unrest had doubled since their discoveries on Skellige and Yen couldn’t help but feel partially responsible, she had directed him to use the Mask of Uroboros. 

Those fleeting glimpses of Ciri and the mysterious mage fighting and ultimately fleeing for their lives again had left him pensive and moody and agitated. It was not how she had imagined their reunion, but nothing about them coming together –from his fateful wish on– had ever been “normal.” Everything had been tumultuous with them, falling apart and then reconciling, never sure what truly connected them. Now that the artificial snare around them had been broken and the raw emotion between them was even stronger than ever before, she felt moments like this more keenly than she might have before. It meant that she held him while he shook, giving whatever respite she could, smoothing away the jagged edges of his consciousness –simply loving him. 

Cuddled against him as she was, Yen felt him gradually begin to relax, muscles unknotting and exhaustion setting in making him sag against her. She remained silent, trying to ignore her freezing toes against the bare wood floor and the icy draft drifting across her lace covered bottom. 

“You’re shivering.” Geralt grunted, turning in her arms to take her hand and quietly lead her back to bed. He waited while she slipped in first and he tugged the covers roughly over her before climbing in on the other side. The mattress dipped under his weight causing her to roll into him and he took advantage of her position, pulling her across his chest and locking one arm around her waist. He was still warm and she snuggled into his side, listening to his now steady pulse, unaware that he fixated on her own rhythmic heartbeat. Slowly they fell back asleep, limbs tangled wildly while they slept, Geralt dreaming peacefully of violet eyes and the scent of lilac and gooseberries.


End file.
